Camping
by whereisbellagoth
Summary: Camping with smut & lemons 8th year fic
1. Chapter 1

With a heavy sigh, Harry Potter dropped the rucksack he was carrying and looked over at his two best friends, both rather red in the face and panting in the heat. The sight of the two of them exhausted and smiling at each other happily caused a slight pang in his chest. A year ago he never would have thought this possible. Here they were, on the top of a goddamn mountain, surrounded by their classmates, with no threat of a dark lord looming over their heads. Those who had survived the war and chosen to resume their studies had returned to Hogwarts for an eighth year, in order to complete their NEWTs. As a new school requirement, all students were required to take a Muggle Studies class, in order to provide a better understanding of muggles and muggle-born wizards and prevent any more young witches and wizards from following in the Death Eaters' footsteps. As a 'special treat' for the eighth year students, their new Muggle Studies professor, Professor Scherzkeks, had taken them all on a muggle-style camping trip. Harry was elated. He had never been camping with the Dursleys, Petunia had never condoned any activities which required cooking over an open fire, or sleeping on the ground. He was broken out of his train of thought by the shrill voice of Professor Scherzkeks, a thin, business-like professor with curly hair which rivaled Hermione's and a glare almost as intimidating as Professor McGonagall's.

"Gather 'round students, you'll all have a break in a minute. First we must sort out our sleeping arrangements for the night. Headmaster Mcgonagall has asked me to enforce house unity by partnering students from different houses, so I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of who will be sharing a tent with whom."

Harry groaned. He had been hoping to share a tent with Ron, he just knew he'd be paired with….

"Draco Malfoy, You're with Mr. Potter, go and set up your tent now please."

He knew it! Whenever their Professors decided to promote 'house unity' he _always_ got partnered with Malfoy. It was just his luck. Sighing again, he grabbed his pack and headed towards the pointy-faced git. He might as well set up the tent now, so that he could spend the rest of the evening with his friends.

"Hey Scarhead" Malfoy called out as he approached.

"Shove off. Let's just pitch the tent and get it over with."

Malfoy flipped him the two-fingered salute and wandered off towards a patch of trees nearby. He dropped his pack and looked expectantly at Harry.

"What?"  
"Aren't you going to put up this blasted muggle tent?"

"Like hell I'm doing all of the work"

But several minutes later found Harry struggling with the tent while Draco stood and made snide comments about Harry's failure to do anything properly. If Harry had looked up, he might have noticed the softness in Draco's eyes as he said it, or the way that those same stormy grey eyes followed him as he worked, occasionally sneaking peeks at his ass as he bent over. However, the Boy-Who-Lived was as oblivious as a crumple horned snorkack.

Draco swore. If he had to hear that fucking "kumbaya" song one more fucking time he was going to hex somebody. If only they had actually been allowed to bring their wands. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough he could perform an incantation wandless. He was getting desperate enough. He threw down the boring, non-exploding muggle playing cards that made no sense and glared at Blaise.

"What?" Blaise asked, setting down his hand.

"I fucking hate camping" Draco whined petulantly.

"We know, dear," Pansy sighed, leaning against Blaise's shoulder and staring up at the stars, "so do we all".

Draco stared into the pathetic fire Blaise and Theo had managed to make, after hours of rubbing a stick against flint. He turned around to look at the bonfire those stupid Gryffindorks had managed, and glared at them all as if daring them to sing another fucking campfire song. Most people had turned in for the night, but Draco was avoiding entering that miniscule tent he was meant to share with Potter.

"Time for me to head to bed," Pansy said, standing up and brushing off her jeans with a disgusted look at her muggle-attired legs and the dirt encrusting them. Her face brightened "Not that I mind. I'll have Brown questioning her sexuality by morning, believe you me!" She cackled and headed off to her tent.

"At least someone's appreciating this house unity bullshit," Theo said glumly. "I'm stuck with that Ernie kid. He smells like toadstools."

Draco sighed and slowly got to his feet. He might as well try to fall asleep before Potter got in the tent, maybe that way he could pretend like he wasn't sharing a tent with a specky prat. He trudged towards his tent and had to bend himself almost in half in order to enter it. The tent really couldn't have been any smaller. It was too hot and stuffy in the tent, so he stripped down to his pants and slid into what Professor Scherzkeks had called a "sleeping pouch" or some such nonsense. He felt like a fucking flobberworm, and wiggled to and fro, giggling slightly. He stilled suddenly, hearing footsteps approaching. _Please please please don't let it be Potter _he thought to himself desperately, suddenly feeling very self-conscious in his flobberworm getup. Sure enough, there was the sound of a zip being pulled down, and the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-The-Bane-Of-Draco's-Existence popped his head into the tent.

"Hey Malfoy, could you move over a bit? I'm coming in now."

"If you hadn't noticed I'm already at the edge of the tent. If I moved over any further I'd knock the whole tent over, thanks to your shoddy attempt at setting it up."

Harry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _snarky bastard_ before the zip was pulled down further and Harry pitched himself rather haphazardly into the tent, half landing on Draco.

"Watch it Potter!" Draco shouted, glaring daggers at the outline of Harry's unkempt hair.

"Sorry" Harry mumbled, scooting over while simultaneously divesting himself of his shirt and trousers. Draco flushed scarlet and emitted a sound that was _definitely, no way, no way in hell near a squeak_ before sliding his head further into his flobberworm suit until nothing but his eyes were poking out. Harry was obliviously removing his glasses and sliding into his own flobberworm sleeping pouch. Both boys remained in an awkward silence, twisting and turning, and sweating in their sleeping bags until Harry swore and sat up.

"It's too fucking hot in here" he muttered while climbing out of his sleeping bag. Draco waited another quarter of an hour before he couldn't take it anymore and mimicked potter, gladly divesting himself of his flobberworm suit. Eventually, both boys fell asleep.

It was pitch dark when Harry awoke, finding himself wrapped around something deliciously soft and _moving_. Yes, something was definitely moving against him, and he belatedly noticed that his cock was hard and rubbing against something that felt suspiciously like an ass. Half asleep, Harry relished the feel of the warmth sliding against his cock, the pressure against it, and the smoothness of whatever it was his torso was up against. It took several minutes for him to register that it was a _body_, and then his whole body went rigid. It wasn't just any body he was wrapped around and apparently rutting against, it was _Draco Malfoy's_ body.

FUCK!

What should he do? Should he move? It felt so good….but it was a boy! And Malfoy! FUCK!

Slowly, hesitantly, Harry attempted to pry himself away from the blonde body, pausing as Malfoy's breathing shifted. And then, Merlin help him, Malfoy fucking moaned. It started as a whimper, and then grew deeper, harder, and fuck it all, Malfoy was having a wet dream. He was rubbing his ass against Harry's cock and _moaning._ Slowly, carefully, Harry managed to disentangle himself. But Circe, he was still hard. And Malfoy's persistent moaning wasn't helping matters. Harry huffed and turned to face the wall of the tent, his face flushed and his heart beating in his throat. Trying not to think of how much he wanted to rub his cock against Malfoy's arse until he came, trying not to think about how Malfoy's moans were causing his prick to pulse and his heart to race. He placed a hand over his prick, trying to quell it, calm it down, but the feeling of his hand, heavy on his oversensitive cock, was too enticing. Slowly, fearfully, he began to rub his hand over the front of his pants, stimulating his cock and pushing his foreskin back and forth, brushing against his glans. He squeezed his eyes shut. _He was not wanking in a tent with Malfoy moaning next to him. He was not wanking in a tent with Malfoy. Fuck, wanking with Malfoy!_ His mind raced at the thought of what it would be like to wank with Malfoy, to stare into his grey eyes as he pulled one off, for his gaze to fall lower, to watch Malfoy jerk himself off. Harry paused in his fantasizing as Malfoy shifted. Belatedly, Harry realized that he had ceased moaning. In a heavy, sleep filled voice, Malfoy mumbled

"C'mon Blaise, you're not having all of the fun without me, are you?" and turned towards Harry. Harry risked a glance at Malfoy's face and realized that Malfoy's eyes were still closed. He thought Harry was Zabini! Harry's mind raced. What should he do? Should he speak? Should he attempt to wake Malfoy? Was Malfoy even asleep anymore? Harry was frozen in shock. Draco's breathing was even and heavy and he moaned again. _Asleep, then_. Harry turned back around, suddenly acutely aware of Malfoy's proximity to Harry. He could feel the heat emanating from Malfoy's skin, could feel Malfoy's breath against his neck. Suddenly, Malfoy flung an arm across Harry and shifted even closer. Harry was trying not to hyperventilate. What the fuck should he do? His brain stopped as he felt what was unmistakably a very hard, very large cock brush against his rear end. And fuck all if it didn't cause Harry's prick to jump and his face to flush to an even deeper red, if that were even possible. Suddenly, Malfoy clutched Harry even tighter and started _rolling_ his hips. Harry squeaked. He was _definitely, no way in hell, dear Merlin, definitely not in any way turned on by this_. Malfoy moaned and mumbled again,

"Circe, Blaise, you feel so good. Wanna fuck you"

Harry couldn't help it anymore. He was too turned on. He cautiously moved his hand back towards his prick. Slowly, very slowly, he rubbed back and forth, simultaneously moving his hips ever so slightly back towards Malfoy. He was rewarded when Malfoy's humping grew even harder, his prick sliding between Harry's arse cheeks and causing Harry to rub himself even faster. Suddenly, he felt Malfoy's hand creeping towards his prick. Harry froze again. There was no way Malfoy was doing this in his sleep anymore. Any minute he was going to realize that it was Harry and punch Harry in the face, or worse, tell everyone that Harry was getting off to Malfoy humping him in his sleep. He had no time to act before Malfoy's hand was circling his prick and he felt a soft kiss placed against his neck.

"I thought you had given up these nighttime fucks," Malfoy mumbled thickly. Suddenly, Harry felt Malfoy's whole body tense, his hand stilling over Harry's prick and his head moving back away from Harry's neck. Suddenly Malfoy's hand withdrew completely as he swore.

….to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

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Draco was dreaming.

That was the only possible explanation. He had to be dreaming.

There was no way in hell he was actually humping Potter right now. This had to be one of his wet dreams. Not that he ever dreamt about Potter, mind you, except for the occasional….well, that was beside the point anyway. Everything felt too real to be a dream. Here he was, lying on top of a flobberworm suit, curled around something distinctly Potter-shaped, and his cock was rock-hard. Not a dream, then. Fuck. Was Potter awake? Was he asleep? Had he noticed Draco's erection? Had Draco groped him in his sleep? He vaguely remembered a half-dream involving Blaise during their experimentation phase, had he groped Potter during his dream? FUCK! What was he supposed to do now? Roll over and pretend it had never happened? Check to see if Potter's still asleep? Wank?

Wanking definitely seemed like a good idea. He couldn't remember the last time he was this hard, and his prick's proximity to Potter's ass wasn't helping matters. Would Potter notice if he continued humping him? How could he ascertain whether or not Potter was awake? Draco held his breath, hoping to find Potter's breathing even. Instead, what greeted his ears was the unmistakable sound of _panting. _Fuck, Potter must be awake. Just as his mind was racing thinking of ways to get himself out of this pickle, Potter shifted his body slightly, his arse just brushing the head of Draco's prick. The feeling was too much for Draco's oversensitive prick, and, unwillingly, he emitted a tiny moan. Potter froze, and suddenly, without warning, turned to face Draco. In the dim light of the tent, Draco could just make out Potter's wide eyes, glancing lower as Potter's tongue darted out to wet his lips. He couldn't stand it any longer…he had to taste…

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Harry was in a permanent state of shock. First, Malfoy had stopped humping him, and Harry was at a loss as to what to do next. Remembering Professor Scherzkeks words of wisdom regarding the possibility of encountering a bear, Harry decided the best course of action was to play dead. So he did, for as long as he could stand it, until he couldn't ignore the demands of his aching prick any longer and had to shift, just a little bit. Having forgotten just how close to Harry Malfoy really was, he hadn't expected his arse to brush against Malfoy's cock, and the moan Malfoy had emitted was too much. Harry turned around. He had to take a chance. He needed to get off, and he knew Malfoy needed to get off, and he couldn't take the suspense any longer. What he had not suspected was for Malfoy to suddenly lean forward, capturing his lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. Merlin, Harry had never been kissed like that before. It was nothing like the disaster with Cho, or the attempt at intimacy with Ginny. It was so much more, so intense, his lips were buzzing and his mind was racing and his palms were sweating and all Malfoy had given him was a simple peck. Harry was a starved man, he needed to taste Malfoy's lips again, needed to devour him.

Harry lost all coherent thought as his and Malfoy's lips crashed together again, this time in a bruising, powerful, wanton kiss. Their tongues met for the first time and both boys moaned at once, needing to feel, taste, touch one another, and kisses were not enough. Harry's shaking hands moved towards Malfoy's silken locks, and for once Malfoy did not make a fuss about his hair getting messed up, too intent upon mapping Harry's bare back with his fingers to care. Eventually Malfoy leaned in for one last desperate kiss before leaning down to suck and lick Harry's neck, leaving no inch of skin untouched. Harry's hands wandered down Malfoy's back, reaching his arse and pulling his hips forward until their cocks touched.

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Potter was a genius. He was an absolute genius for bringing their cocks together. Draco had never felt something so amazing as Potter's cock, hot and heavy, against Draco's own, nothing but two thin layers of cotton between them. Draco growled and rolled on top of Potter, rolling his hips to create a delicious amount of friction between their pricks. His pants were soaked in precome and he was sure that Potter's were too. Suddenly Draco's head was filled with images of Potter's dick, dripping wet with precome and just begging to be sucked. Draco couldn't resist, peppering kisses down Potter's chest before reaching down to the waist of his pants. Taking Potter's mewling as a sign of consent, Draco lifted the waistband of Potter's pants out and pulled them down towards his knees.

A small, petty part of Draco (although if Draco were to be honest with himself, a rather large part of him was fairly petty) had hoped that Potter's cock would be smaller than his. As luck would have it, their pricks were about the same size, roughly 9 inches, though Draco would be loathe to admit that Potter's might be a tiny bit thicker. He had never seen a more beautiful prick in his life, and Draco had seen quite a few pricks, if the stash of Which Wizard under his bed was anything to go by. Giving in to the urge to taste it, Draco leaned down and flicked his tongue against the head of Potter's cock, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste of the Savior of the Wizarding World's prick. Merlin, he was sucking the Boy Who Lived's cock. His father would definitely _not_ be hearing about this.

Pushing all thoughts about his father far from his mind, Draco leaned down to give what he hoped was the best blowjob of Potter's (probably pathetic, sex-wise) life. He opened his mouth and began sucking on the head, gripping the base with one hand and rolling Potter's balls with the other. Good thing Slytherins are so good at multitasking, Draco thought to himself, before sliding his mouth down further to meet his hand. With every bob of his head Draco managed to get more and more of Potter's cock into his mouth, fighting his gag reflex and opening his throat to allow even more in. After hard work, a couple of breaks for air, and an embarrassing amount of drool, Draco had managed to take Potter's entire dick into his mouth. Having been so concentrated on his work, he finally managed a glance up at Potter, whose eyes were glazed and mouth was slack. A wicked thought occurred to Draco, as he allowed his fingers to trace Potter's balls and move slightly lower…


End file.
